The Mal'ary'ush
by niicoly
Summary: Extremely alternate events during Thrawn's campaign lead to a New Republic led by a dark Leia.


_Not quite a tyrant._

That's how the galaxy will remember Chancellor Solo. She never committed genocide. She never rounded up the innocent for slaughter. She never instituted forms of censorship.

"Leia killed Thrawn before she killed Mothma." That was the mantra repeated in bars, schools, and living rooms. It was the same hushed lullaby sung by the military factions and political groups who continued to swear loyalty to her.

If someone got in the way of avenging your own murdered three-day-old infants and brother, you'd be angry too, wouldn't you? Angry enough to kill that person, correct? Mon Mothma was a good woman. But Leia Organa Solo was a faster one.

Before Luke's death, Leia's lightsaber work had been unsteady. Her levitation was shaky. But that morning, in the Senate, the darkness flowing through her had been enough to compensate for any weakness. She tried being rational, of course. Every intelligence agency on Coruscant had already been dispatched to Thrawn's strongholds, looking for the kidnapped Solo twins.

Then came the moment when Leia felt the Force-signature of her children extinguished like flames. Thrawn's trachea snapped in an instant.

But her mood did not improve.

The Imperial warlord's body lay limp in the corridor, surrounded by stunned Noghri. Leia's eyes were wild. the quick kill and her scream of despair, it was impossible to not know what had just transpired. Mon Mothma pushed past her bodyguards, ankle throbbing from the struggle.

Tears sprang to the older woman's eyes. Her protégé seethed as she stared down at Thrawn's body.

Mothma grabbed her bicep. "Leia, I am so sorry--" and then her eyes bulged. Leia's lightsaber twisted through Mothma's stomach. The other senators who had stayed for the firefight shrieked and raced for the exits. The guards ran toward her, but it was no use. The Noghri defended Vader's daughter; their savior's daughter. Their Mal'ary'ush handed out the same punishment to anyone who dared to reason with her or offer desperate offers of comfort.

Within minutes, no others remained.

A special Senate meeting was called that evening.

--

"This is unacceptable."

The Chancellor cut a striking silhouette as the setting Coruscant sun filtered through the windows. The frail tutor presented before her had good reason to tremble. He kneeled, the deep orange beams of sunlight dancing across his pained face.

"Madame," he whispered, "I apologize--"

Leia raised her chin, and the tutor quieted. "I watched the recordings myself. You were instructed to accompany Anakin while he played in his courtyard. He was not to leave your sight for a moment. You failed."

Leia was not usually a masochist. Prolonging the mental and physical sufferings of her enemies was wasted energy. But toying with a teacher who had endangered her only remaining child? Yes, this would be fun.

She paced back and forth. "Do you have any explanation you'd like to give me?"

Leia had been well-versed in torture techniques from a young age. (Although, the point of instruction was to protect her from them.) Allowing the guilty party to believe there was a way out was vicious. When successful, it added a sweet indulgece to the punishment, though most were too shell-shocked to fall for it.

His eyes were old. Baggy. He shook his head, slowly. "No, milady--"

"Well, I sure got one for ya."

Leia's head snapped toward the door. She bared her teeth.

"Han," she growled, defesnively. No. He was NOT allowed in here. He knew that. The instructor grew more fearful as the General stalked toward Leia, not flinching for a moment.

He jabbed his forefinger into her chest. "Run your government however you want, sweetheart. But Anakin's our son. You wanna... terminate... his favorite teacher, we're gonna talk about this. Together."

Her eyes flared in anger. "Get out!"

Leia raised her fist, which Han grabbed. Then he grabbed the other one. Fury radiated off of her as he spoke.

"Leia, his toy fell under a bench. Anakin went to get it. Don't be stupid. He was under a kriffing bench. He didn't get hurt."

"He could --"

Han stopped her. "Tutor Hasani ain't fast enough to chase after Anakin. That's not his fault. It's your fault for hiring an old man to watch after a five-year-old."

He still gripped her wrists. Leia's voice dropped.

"He's... he's really Anakin's favorite?"

Staring at the floor, Han nodded. "He taught him to read blueprints. It makes him happy, Leia." Han stole a look at Hasani. The old man was still shaking, trying to take deep breaths. Leia approached him. He flinched.

"You're dismissed. Don't let me ever catch you doing something like this again."

The Chancellor strode out on her heel, leaving her husband and the tutor alone. Hasani fell face-first onto the floor. He sputtered and tried to regain focus. The shock of what he'd been saved from began to register.

"Thank you--"

"Don't."

The command came out sharper than intended. Hasani gathered his senses and began to stand. For a moment, he could have sworn he saw Han Solo mouth an apology.

But he was already out the door.

--

Leia never took other lovers. Han still slept with her in their bed. They could be safe. He could still engulf her hands in his own, not speaking, not seeing any blood on them.

Because that was still Leia. That woman clinging to him? Waking up from another nightmare? Yeah, that woman was familiar. That's the one who yelled at him over ration bars on Hoth, and table danced with the Rogues a few months after Endor. That's the woman who rescued him. And one day, he would rescue her.

She wrapped her robe around her as she paced the Palace halls. Two Noghri flanked her on either side, harkening to her call as soon as she had awakened. Leia didn't speak. The route was familiar: Anakin's bedroom, the throne room, the balcony, and Anakin's bedroom once more, in case something had changed in the ten minutes since her last visit.

The sheets rustled as she sat back down on the bed she shared with Han. Her husband had pulled the quilts up over himself. Her feet were freezing.

"Blankets?" she asked quietly.

"Nope," he yawned. "Mine."

"I'm not in the mood for this tonight," Leia mumbled.

"You left. They're mine now."

She tugged unsuccessfully at one edge. "Han, I'm warning you--"

His laugh was offensive, piercing the darkness. "You gonna kill me, Leia? Is that it? Is that how ipathetic/i you are?"

He should have left years ago, but he would never bring himself to abandon her. Outsiders said it was only for Anakin's sake. But both of them knew the truth: he loved her. He loved her enough to call her names and tell her that he hated her and that he wished she'd been the one to die instead.

Leia sat still. Then came the smile. The quick, microscopic one, showing her gratitude for being reminded that she was still human.

She knew how ridiculous all this was. Peace through terror. Life through execution.

It takes a lot to make a hero snap.

--

_Meanwhile... _

Sweat beaded on the man's face. He put his hands on his hips and arched his back, cracking stiff muscles. His speeder needed repairs today.

The twin suns greeted the dawn with their usual intensity. After a few minutes staring at the speeder's underbelly, he reached for his hydrospanner, but it wasn't there. Sighing, he rolled out from beneath it.

The tool clumsily levitated a few inches off the ground, only a few inches from hs toolbox. He suddenly heard a tiny, female giggle.

Luke Skywalker knew how to keep his fear in check. He snatched the hydrospanner in mid-air, and marched around to the other side of his speeder. The small girl's mischievous smile quickly faded.

"Jaina, you know that's dangerous."

She twisted a piece of hair around her finger. "No one's looking," she said softly. "I'm just having fun. Mos Eisley's quiet in the morning."

Her uncle narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry, Uncle Luke," she mumbled in defeat.


End file.
